


It's Really Been Some Welcome

by elwon



Series: Escape to Gotham [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Jason's a paranoid sort, M/M, Mentions of Barbara Gordon, happy reunions, mentions of tim drake - Freeform, settling in to a new country
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 15:53:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13838064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elwon/pseuds/elwon
Summary: The walk to the throne room is near silent. The bare stone corridors look like the same ones from yesterday, but Jason is disoriented and can’t tell which direction they’re going in, much less if he’s walked them before. It’s another thing adding to the discomfort of being there that he thinks he can’t share with Dick. He knows Dick would tell him he’s unnecessarily concerned, and Dick is very probably right, but Jason’s job in life is to be paranoid on behalf of his masters.





	It's Really Been Some Welcome

One thing that Jason has forgotten about the city of Bristol is how close the wooden buildings are to each other. It leads to many little alleyways, all along the main roads, all higgledy-piggledy with no rhyme or reason to their placement. It’s a far cry from the mud brick buildings set up in a near regimented fashion that he and Damian are used to. Another thing he’s forgotten was the sheer overpowering smell of the place. Cooking food mingles with wood smoke from the fires, the mud in the streets and the general aroma of so many people packed together in close quarters. Even the noise feels disorienting; the sound of hundreds of voices yelling in his native language is somehow more confusing than that of the marketplaces outside of Ra’s palace. It even feels more crowded, people all over the place going in many different directions, bumping into one another due to the thinner roads. 

Jason is torn between wanting to make it to the palace just for some peace and quiet, and putting it off longer because he has no idea what their welcome will be like. Dick, however, looks overjoyed to be home. He’s been pointing out things of interest to both Jason and Damian, although it’s been more Damian, to tell the truth, since they entered the city gates. The city Jason was born in looks exactly the same as it did when he left it, for all that changes that must have happened. Jason feels strangely unwelcome; not that anyone’s actually paying much attention to the three of them. Honestly that’s a relief, because way down in his heart, home is Nanda Parbat. He’s never even entertained thoughts of returning to Bristol. But thanks to Nyssa, here he is. He looks forward to returning the favour with a dagger deep in her heart.

***

They reach the Palace gates sometime in the late morning. Dick rides right up to the wrought iron gates, smiling at the guards and chatting casually with them until one shouts; and then suddenly, several guards are pulling at Dick’s horse, dragging him inside while Dick laughs. He waves them away, taking back control of his horse and then points to Jason and Damian and the crowd of guards parts, allowing all three of them inside. They’re directed into a quite private part of the flagstone paved courtyard, their horses taken by stablehands after they dismount. Jason grips Damian’s hand tightly as a cacophony of noise erupts from everywhere around them. Servants are laughing and crying and guards scurry about. Dick stands tall in the centre of the chaos, hugging maids and footmen equally.

Dick had said he was popular, but this is somehow ridiculous to Jason. He wants to get Damian inside, away from all these people he doesn’t know or trust, but he also wants to allow Dick a proper homecoming. He’s annoyed with himself for not foreseeing this might happen. An elderly gentleman with grey hair, a moustache, and the kind of fine clothes that can only mean he’s very high up in the hierarchy of the palace, walks down the stone steps from what looks to be the kitchen door to the private stables. A hush falls over the crowd and Dick turns, looking up at the man with a blinding smile.

“Alfred!” Dick yells, rushing over to the old man and hugging him tightly. Alfred pats Dick gently on the back, before he takes Dick’s face in both hands.

“Well, let me take a proper look at you, your highness. We’ve all been so terribly worried. Thank the heavens for your safe and timely return.” Alfred says, voice choking up only at the very last instant.

“It was Jason, really, he got both of us here safely.” Dick replies, voice thickening with unshed tears as he looks at his... well, Jason’s not exactly sure what Alfred’s position is, only that Dick talked about his as much as he did the King and his brother.

“Ah, that illustrious husband of yours. Please, do introduce us, your highness.” Alfred says, soft smile on his face as he lets go of Dick and looks out over the crowd. He spots Jason and Damian nearly immediately, given that they’ve been standing back, letting the crowd happen in front of them.

“Of course!” Dick says, excitedly, practically dragging Alfred over to where Jason and Damian are standing. “Alfred, this is my husband, Jason, and this is ...Damian al Ghul. They’ve taken excellent care of me all this time.”

“A pleasure. Please allow me to welcome you to our country, and your new home.” Alfred says, bowing. “If there is anything we can do to help you settle in, please do inform us.” Jason nods, jerkily, feeling incredibly out of his depth. He was never one to entertain the guests back home, and he has no idea what to say now. Luckily, Damian comes to his rescue.

“Thank you. We should like to rest and clean the dust from ourselves. May we be shown in?” Damian’s using his best manners, doing his best to give a good first impression and Jason wants to ruffle his hair and feed him all the sweets he’s missed out on the last couple of months.

“Please, follow me. I’ll take you to your quarters.” Alfred smiles warmly, gesturing back at the steps, and Dick almost vibrates in happiness next to Jason. Damian clings tighter to Jason and Jason looks down at his determined face. Time to get used to the comforts of a palace again. Dick slips his arm around Jason’s, still smiling, but giving him a small nod. Dick’s right there with them. They aren’t all alone in unfamiliar territory. They’ll be fine. Jason takes a deep breath, and starts walking after Alfred. After they’ve washed, had a meal and had some time to rest, the next test will be an audience with the king. Dick’s father. The man they’ll have to rely on for protection from now on.

***

Walking through the palace to Dick’s private suite of rooms is an unnerving time for Jason. He’d only ever seen the palace from a distance when he was very young, and now being inside it is a strange experience. It’s so different from the open, airy structure that was Ra’s palace, with its thick enclosed stone walls and tiny windows, and the wooden floors creaking in unexpected places. Even the corridors are narrower, as if to disencourage people to travel down them. Once they make it to Dick’s rooms, the feeling of being closed in doesn’t abate. The walls are panelled with wood and thick heavy fabrics, the windows, while bigger than those of the corridors, are still far smaller than Jason’s used to, barely letting in any light in comparison.

Dick has four rooms, all to himself. The largest houses his bed, a massive four poster with the thickest mattress Jason’s ever seen in his life, and thick drapes for privacy. It also has two sofas and several chairs, along with a table. There’s an unused desk over by one wall. Dick obviously used to entertain here. The second room is a smaller study, walls lined with books and another desk. It has larger windows than Jason’s seen in the palace yet. The third room houses clothes in many wardrobes, and also has a smaller, less ostentatious bed than in the main room. The last is a bathroom, with all the amenities that Jason was expecting, if not in the shapes he’s used to.

“If all is well, I shall have some food and hot water for bathing sent up.” Alfred interrupts Jason’s musing on their new lodgings. Alfred waves the few guards that accompanied them out and is about to follow them when Jason realises that if things are left as they are, Damian will have to sleep in another room. 

“Can you bring a sleeping pallet?” It’s the first thing he’s said since they reached the palace and his voice comes out deep and scratchy and verging on rude. Alfred looks surprised and then frowns for a bare second before his face smoothes out.

“That can be arranged, my lord. Will there be anything else?” Alfred doesn’t seem too put out by the request, which was all Jason was hoping for, apart from the bed, of course. Jason shakes his head, looking over at Dick and then Damian.

“I would like a light meal.” Damian says, offhandedly as he pokes through the books that Dick had left by his bedside.

“Food and hot water would be wonderful, thank you, Alfred.” Dick says, smiling at the old man. “Oh, Damian’s a vegetarian, that won’t be a problem, will it?” 

“I shall see to it that it is not, your highness.” Alfred nods, smoothing down his robe. “Please, take your time and relax. His majesty is not expecting you until the morning.”

“Thanks Alfred. It’s so good to see you once more.” Dick kicks his shoes off and flops down onto one of the sofas.

“You as well, your highness. You as well.” Alfred bows slightly before leaving the three of them alone in the room.

Jason pulls off his dulband, removes his outer robe and sits down on one of the chairs. The seat is stuffed full of goose down making it soft to sit on, and Jason fiercely misses the huge cushions he used to use. He stares blankly at the wall for a few moments, trying to gather his whirling thoughts. He’s no longer in control of the situation, and he has no orders to follow that would help with the feelings of panic. 

His gaze drops to the fireplace in the room, with a huge stone mantel over it, and clean dry wood neatly stacked inside it. Jason shivers and becomes aware just how cold the rooms are. Damian’s breath is gently misting up one of the small windows. Even Dick seems a little chilled, rubbing his bare feet together and shoving them under a small cushion by the arm of the sofa. The weather’s still quite warm for how late in the year it is, and that’s the only reason Jason can thinks of for why the fire isn’t already lit. On the other hand, it gives him something to do, so he goes over to the fire, finding the kindling nest to the stack of logs, and the flint stone to light the kindling. While he makes sparks into the wood, Damian comes over and sits next to Dick.

“So. This is your home.” Damian says, dragging Dick from whatever thoughts he’s been having.

“It is. My rooms even.” Dick smiles, tired but happy. “Do you want to eat before you bathe or after?” Damian ponders this until there’s a knock on the door. “I’ll get it.” Dick levers himself off the sofa and Jason stiffens as he walks over to the door, hand reaching for his dagger without even thinking about it. Dick opens the door and several maids and manservants bustle in with buckets of hot, steaming water.

“I’ll bathe first.” Damian announces, and Dick snorts in amusement. Damian follows the line of people into the bathroom and Jason’s torn between going with him or collapsing into the chair again. Dick however seems to know exactly what to do, and heads into the bathroom leaving the door to his rooms wide open. Jason’s skin crawls at the idea anyone could walk in the open door.

“Jason, do you not want to bathe?” Dick says, a worried look crossing his face. “Come on, it’ll do you good to wash the road away.” Jason can’t think of a way to say he doesn’t like the way they’ll all be vulnerable in an unfamiliar place without upsetting Dick, so into the bathroom he goes, without a word.

Damian’s shucked off his clothes already, sitting in the large metal tub and having water poured over him. One of the maids adds some sweet citrus scented oil to the water. Dick pulls his shirt off, grabbing one of the washcloths and running it over Damian’s back. A few of the maids chuckle before heading out. Dick works wordlessly, and it’s that more than anything that makes Jason realise that Dick’s at least as exhausted as both he and Damian are. Once Damian’s had a good scrubbing back and front, he starts to loll in the water, tipping over to side in his sleep.

One of the servants brings in a child sized shirt in the western style and what Jason remembers are underbreeches. He and Dick struggle to get the sleeping Damian dressed, but after a few minutes they have him covered. Dick carries Damian into his room, laying him down on the big bed while Jason hovers at the bathroom doorway. At Dick’s wordless urging, the servants leave, closing the door behind them. Dick tucks him under the blankets, and then walks back over to Jason. They look at each other for several long heartbeats until Dick throws his arms around Jason’s neck and rests his head on Jason’s shoulder. Jason wraps his arms tightly around his husband, leaning into him, taking as much comfort as he gives. They might be safe in Dick’s childhood home, but the future is still far from certain. 

“I love you.” Dick whispers, and Jason closes his eyes, breathing him in.

“I love you too, my Prince. But if I might make a request?” Jason whispers back, nuzzling at Dick’s ear.

“Oh, what could that be?” Dick says, quietly as he lifts his head to look into Jason’s eyes.

“Please bathe. You stink.” Jason says, as meaningfully as he can manage. The indignant snort he gets in response is well worth it.

“Only if you wash my back. You can add that to your list of husbandly duties.” Dick says, pulling out of his arms and towards the tub, shedding his trousers as he does.

“As my Prince commands.” Jason follows him in with his eyes on Dick’s back, pulling the door half shut, in case they disturb Damian.

***

Jason wakes early and feels too restless to stay in the bed with Dick and Damian, so he ends up sitting next to the window after he drags a chair over to it. He stares out at the pale grey dawn, through the thick glass and lead panelling, watching as the sun begins its slow ascent in the sky, light reflecting from the wet rooftops of the houses below the palace. A knock comes at the door after an hour or so. Jason goes over to the door, picking up his knife and holding it behind his back as he opens the door. It’s a couple of servants with a large tray of food with plates and cutlery perched upon it, and a maid with her arms full of clothes to fit Jason and Damian.

The servants leave the tray on the table, and the maid spreads the clothes out over a sofa before leaving with the minimum amount of fuss. As soon as the door closes behind them, Jason relaxes and goes to investigate the food. The moment he lifts the lid from the tray and the smell of bacon starts wafting through the room, Dick sits up.

“S’that breakfast?” Dick mumbles, voice rough with sleep, hair standing up in odd angles after sleeping on more pillows than Jason’s used to.

“Bacon, eggs, bread and porridge.” Jason nods, grabbing a plate from the tray and starting to load food on it. “They brought us clothes too. Would it be rude to   
not wear them?”

“Not really. Although why you wouldn’t want to wear clean clothes, I don’t know.” Dick says, yawning and stretching. He slips out of the bed, gently nudging at Damian’s shoulder to wake him up. Jason doesn’t tell him that he doesn’t want to take his father’s charity. It’s stupid to get hung up on the little things when a much bigger issue is at hand.

By the time they’ve eaten and dressed in the clothes that the servants left for them, although convincing Damian to wear the heavy restricting garments took longer than even Jason thought it would, they’re ready to face the day and King Bruce. Another knock comes at the door, and when Dick answers it, it’s Alfred, who tells them that their audience with the king has been granted.

The walk to the throne room is near silent. The bare stone corridors look like the same ones from yesterday, but Jason is disoriented and can’t tell which direction they’re going in, much less if he’s walked them before. It’s another thing adding to the discomfort of being there that he thinks he can’t share with Dick. He knows Dick would tell him he’s unnecessarily concerned, and Dick is very probably right, but Jason’s job in life is to be paranoid on behalf of his masters.

The throne room itself is a cavernous room, at least 300 yards long, and half that wide and tall, with supporting pillars in a row dividing the room into thirds. There are long thin stained glass windows set high in the walls every five paces or so, letting in the light and creating pockets of colour on the marble flooring and occupants. Banners with the crest of the royal family hang beneath them. The huge room would be freezing cold if not for all the people there heating it up. A long thin dull blue carpet runs up the central section, leading to the stepped dais where the throne sits. There are two lesser chairs either side of it, both occupied, one by a young dark haired man, who must be Dick’s younger brother Timothy, the heir to the throne, and the other by Timothy’s wife, Barbara, a brilliant and well respected politician who is the King’s Chancellor and spymaster, although that she holds the second position is not a widely known fact. The outer sections of the throne room are currently filled with nobles and rich merchants, milling around and doing business. So many people that close to the royal family makes Jason ...itchy.

The walk up to the throne makes Jason’s heart pound, but with everyone looking on he can’t take Dick’s hand or reach out to rest a hand on Damian’s shoulder. They’re there to be seen, so Jason calls upon his years of training, straightening his back and reminding himself that no one’s opinion matters but the ones he’s walking with and, of course, the king’s. He has no idea what to make of Dick’s father. Dick has always been close lipped about him, and while Ra’s had more respect for him that many other monarchs, what little Jason remembers of his childhood doesn’t paint him in a good light. They eventually make it the length of the throne room, and Bruce waits for the whispers to die out before he stands, and raises his arms out. Dick slowly walks forward and after a stiffly formal embrace, he steps back down to Damian and Jason. 

“Welcome home, Richard.” The king says, in a lighter voice than Jason was expecting. “We are pleased to see your safe return, and that your husband has accompanied you.”

“Thank you, Father.” Dick bows, enough to be polite. “It is good to be home. May I introduce my husband, Sir Jason Todd, and Prince Damian Al Ghul, both late of Nanda Parbat.”

“Indeed. We are saddened and troubled to hear of the recent unrest in your kingdom. The Kingdom of Gotham welcomes you and gives you Our assurance of your safety within our borders.” Bruce says, sweeping down the steps with his heavy black robe dragging after him. “There has been no announcement of King Ra’s deposition, or that of his daughter, Talia. We can only assume that, like yourselves, they escaped.” Damian makes a small choked noise, and standing next to him, Jason ruthlessly shoves down the hope that they’re still free. He can’t focus on that now. Damian steps forward, taking a deep breath to recite the short speech Dick had written for him.

“Our thanks to you for your hospitality, my lord.” Damian starts saying before he frowns slightly. “And our thanks for the news on my family.” That part wasn’t scripted and Jason’s proud of him for thinking of adding it in. “We hope Our stay will strengthen our alliance, and foster good will between our nations.” Damian nods as he finishes. Jason hopes Dick thought to get sweets sent to their room, because the boy deserves them.

“I can only apologise we have no news on your father, Prince Damian. Unfortunately We did not have his name, and so could not verify his safety.” Bruce says, searching Damian’s face for something, Jason’s not sure what. “Perhaps we shall be fortunate and he will come to Our palace to fetch you?” Oh, that’s what he’s after. He’s clearly hoping to make an alliance with the country that Damian’s father comes from. Jason breathes shallowly through his nose and hopes his face is as blank as he’s willing it to be. Damian glances up at Jason quickly before returning his gaze to Bruce.

“My father will not be coming to fetch me.” Damian says, voice steady and strong. Jason wants to ruffle his hair and tell him how proud he is of him, but he’ll have to wait for later.

“I see.” Bruce says, smile not quite reaching his eyes. He turns to Dick and it’s only then the smile on his face turns genuine. “I hope we can speak later, Dick. I would love to hear of your travels. Unfortunately, I have meetings I can’t delay this morning. Perhaps after lunch? We can all get to know each other a little better.” Bruce’s voice is pitched quieter than before, and Jason finally sees a flash of why Ra’s had held the man in such high esteem.

“That sounds great, Bruce. Thank you.” Dick says back, just as warmly. Perhaps things will be alright, just as Dick’s said all along. Jason certainly hopes they will be. 

***

They’re back in Dick’s rooms, wasting time until lunch is served. While the fire roars, Damian’s naps on one of the sofas, so Jason and Dick are taking the time to relax on Dick’s big bed. Jason has a book open on his lap, but he’s staring blindly at the pages rather than actually reading it. Dick’s sketching abstract patterns in a big blank pad of paper.

“Oh, I meant to ask...” Dick says, dragging Jason out of his thoughts. “Why was Damian so sure his father wasn’t coming for him?”

“That’s a little complicated.” Jason flips the page of his book, but more for something to do than anything. “Damian’s father, well. He’s not... involved. By design.” Dick sets his charcoal down and turns to Jason with a quizzical look on his face.

“I mean, I don’t remember anyone ever mentioning him. I don’t even remember any rumours from the servants about him. I did think that was odd.” Dick curls up by Jason’s side. “I thought he was dead.”

“I shouldn’t really tell you this, but I trust you to keep it to yourself.” Jason says, looking down at Dick. Dick looks up at him, sincerity shining in his eyes.

“I promise I won’t repeat what you’re about to tell me.” Dick nods, shifting a little up the mound of pillows so he doesn’t have to crane his neck to look up at Jason.

“Alright. So, before Damian was born, Ra’s wanted to make Talia his official heir. But several of his advisors told him that the surrounding countries wouldn’t take well to that. That they’d attempt to invade. And while Ra’s was sure Talia could handle that, he wanted to make life easier for her.” Jason stops his story to pick up a glass of cider from the bedside table and sip at it. Lips and throat wettened, he continues. “However, those same advisors said that no one would have a problem with it if she were regent for her son.”

“Charming of them.” Dick says, frowning and offended on Talia’s behalf. Jason nods; frankly he’d never understood that view. If they thought she wasn’t strong enough on her own, why would they think she was with a young vulnerable child? Never mind that Talia could crush them all without breaking a sweat anyway. No she had to be tied to a male heir for... reasons. Jason hadn’t liked those advisors one bit. He hadn’t been at all sorry to see them go when they were assassinated.

“I know! Anyway, Ra’s decided they were right, but obviously Talia had no spouse, so there was a bit of a kerfuffle over that. Eventually after weeks of arguing, they agreed that a random loyal guard should... donate his seed. They even drew up a contract saying that he had no legal tie or authority over any offspring produced.” Jason flicks his gaze over to where Damian’s still napping.

“How old were you when this was happening?” Dick says, and Jason can see the wheels turning in Dick’s mind. Jason doesn’t want to lie, but he does need to be careful with what information he gives Dick.

“Me? I was about... fifteen or so when the plan was made? I was sixteen when Talia announced she’d successfully conceived. Damian was born about four or five months later, I think.” Jason tries to fudge the dates a little, making himself a bit older just in case. There’s no sense in upsetting Dick if he _has_ worked it out. 

“So, the _random, loyal guard_ fathered Damian? And that was that?” Dick has a curious look on his face, and Jason’s pretty sure he’s going to question him further for all the details he’s left out, but Dick doesn’t ask anything more.

“That’s about the sum of it, yes.” Jason nods. “I don’t think Damian knows anything other than his father isn’t meant to have any hold over him, though.”

“I see. That’s kind of sad. I wouldn’t want that for our children.” Dick says, leaning closer to Jason and pressing a kiss to his shoulder.  
“It’s not ideal, no.” Jason agrees, relieved that Dick’s not pushing, although there’s something in his eyes that makes Jason think he might have guessed the truth.   
“Are we having children now? Are you telling me you’re pregnant? Because I was under the impression that was impossible.” The plush fat pillow Jason receives to the face for that is definitely worth the amused look on Dick’s face. “I deserved that.”

“Too right you did! Such rudeness to your husband, why I never!” Dick bites his lip to keep the grin off his face. “I think you ought to apologise properly...”

“As my Prince commands.” Jason grins, pulling him in for a kiss, tipping him back into the overstuffed pillows.

Jason resolutely puts out of his mind the three months that he’d got up before dawn to touch himself only to catch his seed in a jug, delivering that jug to Talia in the utmost secrecy, until the announcement that she was with child. He has much more pleasant things to focus on right now.

***

The last two weeks of being in the palace have mostly comprised of getting to know Dick’s family, attending feasts and celebratory balls, and getting to know the grounds of the palace. Jason still has a thread of unease running through him, and most annoyingly he can’t pinpoint why he feels that way. He manages to be polite but distant with King Bruce, he’s impressed with Princess Barbara, and although he finds her husband a touch too smug to really like him, they’ve managed several civil conversations, so whatever the lingering bad feeling is, it’s not the royal family. 

Similarly, things with Dick have never been better. Long evenings have been spent doing nothing more than sitting and talking, reading or drawing in Dick and   
Damian’s cases, and Damian’s proved to have a skill far above his age at sketching, and pictures of Nanda Parbat are now adorning nearly all the walls in Dick’s suite. Sometimes they listen to music or occasionally watch a play the palace is hosting for all. Damian’s relaxing into life at the palace too. Now that the extra bed pallet has been removed from Dick’s main bedroom, Damian’s moved to sleeping in the secondary bedroom and while they still leave the door open, the increase in privacy has been welcomed by all three of them.

So when Damian runs into the room in the evening yelling about a dog barking, Jason barely takes any notice, nose stuck in a book while Dick talks to the boy. Which apparently isn’t good enough for him as Jason’s wrist is gripped in a small determined grasp and pulled to follow Damian out of the room. Jason walks after him obediently, while Dick fails to stifle a smile and falls into step with Jason.

“Looks like we’re on a twilight adventure. This should be fun!” Dick says leaning into Jason’s space and the smile on his face is crinkling up his eyes in a way that makes Jason’s heart expand in his chest pleasantly.

“I’m glad you’re sense of fun hasn’t abandoned you, my Prince, but should we really be encouraging this?” Jason hisses back, trying not to catch Damian’s attention. The boy’s still got Jason’s wrist in his tiny fist, striding determinately towards the staircase at the end of the hall. “If this goes wrong, I’m blaming you.”

“Yes, yes we should! Consider humouring Damian to be another of your husbandly duties.” Dick grins, jumping down the stairs two at a time. Jason has to wonder if Dick got dropped on his head as a child, because it would explain a _lot_. “I could make it an order from your prince, if it helps?”

“You know, I think it would.” Jason says, coming down the stairs at a normal rate despite Damian’s tugging at him. “Where exactly are we going, my lord?”

“Outside! I can hear Titus!” Damian says, when they hit the bottom step. Jason and Dick share a worried look. Damian hasn’t brought up Titus since they hurriedly escaped their former home. While Jason hasn’t exactly wanted him to forget his dog, he’d let himself think that Damian not mentioning him was a good sign. 

As they reach the door to the servants’ courtyard, they can hear a dog barking. The likelihood that it’s Titus is... very small. But once they get outside, if the dog they see isn’t Titus, then he’s the spitting image of him. The dog barks once more, neatly sidestepping the maid with the broom who’s been trying to usher the dog away. Titus trots over to Damian, sitting down in front of him while Damian lets go of Jason and throws his arms around Titus’ neck. The dog is filthy, dust, sand and mud all matted horribly in his short fur. Jason takes a few steps towards him and reaches out to pat Titus’ head. Behind him, Dick is talking quietly to some of the servants, but Jason’s not listening to that, hearing the dog’s quiet happy whines as he’s reunited with Damian.

“I’ve told the servants to bring some warm water.” Dick says, walking over to the three of them. “It looks like Titus could use a wash. Although if Damian doesn’t let go we might have to wash them both!” Jason looks over to Dick and sees Dick smiling back at him softly. Jason steps over to him and wordlessly wraps an arm around his shoulders. Dick leans into him, rubbing soft circles into his back. “I can’t believe he’s really here. Who would have thought it was possible... How on earth did he even get here?”

“I honestly have no idea. I don’t know whether to hope he made it here himself, or worry that Nyssa brought him.” Jason admits, voice pitched low so that only Dick can hear him. “I’m not sure my luck is good enough for it to be Titus travelling by himself.”

“You worry too much. Let’s just be glad he’s here.” Dick says, that soft smile back on his face. “Besides, you’re forgetting my _excellent_ luck.” Jason turns his head to Dick and sees the amusement in Dick’s eyes. Two servants bring out buckets of warm water in each hand, setting them down next to Damian and Titus. One of them hands Dick a brush. Dick steps forward and picks up a bucket, tipping some of the water along Titus’ back and dragging the brush through his fur. Another servant walks up with a brush in hand, about to help. Jason intercepts him, taking the brush and kneeling down by Titus’ head to work at his front legs. Damian has at least let go of the dog’s neck to pet at his head instead. Titus takes all the fuss and washing with the same placid patience that Jason remembers so well. He’d missed the old dog more than he’d realised, but still not as much as Damian had.

“Perhaps _I’m_ just sun-addled then.” Jason says, waiting for Dick’s reaction to the old joke as he flicks off a large patch of mud from Titus’ shanks.

“You know, that really would explain a lot about you, Jason.” Dick grins, flicking some water at him.

“Keep that up, and I’ll be sleeping in the stables tonight, my Prince.” Jason grins back, and Damian flicks his gaze between the two of them before rolling his eyes.

“Do you see what I’ve had to put up with all this time, Titus? If you think this is bad, you should see them being all _kissy_. It’s awful.” Damian says, looking Titus right in the eyes. “I’m so glad you’re back. Every time they start talking about _husbandly duty_ , I order you to bite them.” Titus blinks at Damian while his body gets thoroughly washed and chuffs quietly at him. Damian’s smiles so wide Jason thinks his face must hurt. “Good boy, Titus. Good boy.”

***

Washing Titus took the better part of an hour; cleaning the assorted debris stuck to him and making him smell fresh and clean, well as much as you can for any dog without perfuming them. By the time they’re done and dry and back in Dick’s rooms, Damian’s blinking and yawning widely and Dick doesn’t look that much more awake. Jason tucks Damian into bed, allowing Titus to sleep next to him just for tonight. Damian wraps his arms around an unmoving Titus, and stares up at Jason as he plumps Damian’s pillow and pulls the covers up over him.

“Todd, if Titus can find us, do you think Mother and Grandfather can too?” Damian says quietly, fingers idly stroking at Titus, almost absently.

“Your mother and grandfather are two of the most capable people I know. If they’re able to come to us, my lord, then they certainly will.” Jason smoothes down the covers and gives Damian what he hopes is a confident smile.

“I choose to believe they will. They’ll find us, and we’ll get revenge on Nyssa and then we can all go back home...” Damian trails off sleepily. “Then we’ll all be happy, won’t we, Father?” Jason blinks in surprise. He honestly thought that Damian hadn’t known. He’s saved from having to answer by Damian falling asleep. Jason sits by his bed for a few more minutes, getting his head around the fact that Damian _knows_.

Dick coughs quietly from the doorway and Jason looks up, startled. He slowly moves his hand away from his knife, where it had moved automatically upon hearing an unexpected noise. Jason stands up, moving closer to Dick and that soft smile he’s come to love. They move into the other room and pull Damian’s door not quite closed. Jason finds himself directed to the more comfy sofa of the two, feet close to the fire. Jason toes his boots off and leans back into the plush cushions while Dick grabs them a glass of wine each.

Dick hands Jason his glass and curls up on the sofa, leaning against him and pulling Jason’s arm around his shoulders. The fire crackles gently in the grate, sending cosy warmth throughout the room. If Jason tilts his head he can just see the moon edging its way across the sky through the window. The only other sound in the room is the sipping of wine and the sussurrus of his and Dick’s breathing. It’s relaxed and comfortable and Jason thinks that maybe he really can make a home here with the three of them. Dick shifts against him, dropping his empty wine glass on the end table. Jason sips the last of his wine and his glass joins Dick’s on the table. 

“I love you.” Dick says, and Jason looks at him, taking in the bright blue of his eyes and the fan of dark eyelashes, the line of his jaw and the soft curl of his hair against it, and those soft lips that he loves kissing and feels his breath catch in his chest.

“I love you too, my Prince.” Jason says, trailing his fingers through the strands of Dick’s hair. Dick smiles and leans in, kissing him gently and far too briefly in Jason’s opinion. 

“So... Damian _does_ know who his father is.” Dick rests his head on Jason’s shoulder, and Jason almost wishes he hadn’t so he’d be able to see Dick’s face better. “Are we still going to keep it a secret?

“I... made a promise to Talia that I would.” Jason works his jaw; trying to keep the relaxed feeling he had moments ago. “I was hoping you hadn’t worked it out.”

“Even if I hadn’t heard Damian call you father, I knew when you told my about the “loyal guard.” And after that, seeing the way you look at him, and always make him your priority? It was astonishingly obvious.” Dick pats at his chest, as if in apology. “If it helps? I found it very endearing.” Oddly enough it does.

“You’re not mad at me for lying to you?” Jason wonders how he got so lucky. Maybe Dick’s excellent luck is rubbing off on him.

“You only did it to protect your son. I think I can forgive that. Just don’t do it again.” Dick nods. “And when we have children, you have to admit they’re yours.”

“Did something change from the last time we discussed this? Because I’m still sure it’s impossible.” Jason snorts softly as Dick.

“It might be impossible, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have a lot of fun trying, Jason! In fact, I’m making it an order. We’re going to have a big family and you’re going to enjoy making it.” Dick laughs, standing up and pulling Jason to his feet by his wrist.

“As my Prince commands.” Jason grins, getting pulled over to the bed. He takes a quick step to get in front of Dick and wraps his arms around him, kissing him deeply. He lifts Dick onto the bed, pushing him down into the plush pillows. “I’ll add it to my husbandly duties.”

“I really do have the best husband ever!” Dick sighs happily. “Remind me to build you those ridiculously opulent baths that Damian designed for your birthday.”


End file.
